


Blindfold

by bexara



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexara/pseuds/bexara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takao persuades Midorima to try something new. This is a Takao x Midorima story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blindfold

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the kink meme on DW. The prompt was:Takao blindfolds Midorima during sex! Points if Takao is really taking his time and Midorima wants him to get on with it already.

Midorima knew they were going to have sex today. Takao was touching him way more than normal. A hand on his back. Fingers trailing lightly over his arm. A gentle stroke on the nape of his neck. Each small caress sent shivers cascading down his spine, though he masked his response masterfully. It wouldn’t do for Takao to get cheekier than he already was. He also knew sex was on the horizon because his partner had that look in his eyes, that bright silvery light that said he couldn’t wait until they were alone, until he could strip Midorima, touch him, _love_ him.

Their relationship confounded and embarrassed him. Not just because they were both male.  He was pragmatic enough to realize people were attracted to who they were attracted to, regardless of gender or race or creed. It was just that Takao was so … so _Takao_. Emotional, constantly in his space, chattering like a magpie, teasing and joking, kissing and fondling, pushing Midorima past boundaries he had always assumed were set in stone. Not that he had ever pictured himself with a lover, but if he had, someone like Takao would most likely never have even entered his mind. They were just so different.

The first time they’d had sex, Takao had cried, thanking him over and over, bewildering him.  He didn’t understand the tears or the gratitude and he had said as much, but Takao had just shook his head, eyes shining, mouth smiling, and kissed him. Midorima’s chest had felt so tight, he’d thought he was having a heart attack, and that confused him, too.

Takao hadn’t cried again. Instead, each time they were intimate, he would touch Midorima all over, kiss every centimeter of his bare skin, seeming to revel in the simple feel and scent and taste of him. Calling out “Shin-chan, Shin-chan,” over and over, almost worshipping his body, until he couldn’t even hear Takao say his name now without remembering  every heated caress, every soft sigh, every moment when Takao screamed or whispered, “I love you, Shin-chan,” as he climaxed inside Midorima’s body.

It was humiliating. Midorima had purpose, had plans, doing everything he could to stay focused and grounded. With one look, one touch, Takao could shatter that composure, stir his emotions, take over his mind and body. It was humiliating, and yet … he had never been happier in his life, and that was the most baffling thing of all.

“Shin-chan, come to my house today?” Takao leaned into him, drawing him out of his jumbled thoughts.

Midorima looked down, saw the merry grin on Takao’s face, the glitter in his eyes, and he knew what his companion was really asking. He’d been right; Takao wanted to make love. For a moment, he wavered. He always did, the hesitation a product of his rational mind arguing with the part of himself he’d never let anyone else see before Takao. And, just like always, his indecision melted away in the face of Takao’s earnest, joyful, excited, _adoring_ expression.

He looked away, nodding sharply. Takao responded by jumping on him, throwing strong, lithe arms around his waist, shouting cheerfully.

“Get off me, you idiot,” Midorima hissed, elbowing Takao hard in the stomach, fighting down the blush that threatened to burn his face.

Takao eased away, rubbing his belly, but he didn’t go far, arm and leg brushing against Midorima’s as they resumed their walk down the hall.

“You’re so mean, Shin-chan,” Takao whined.

Midorima just pushed up his glasses. “Hmph. Then leave if you don’t like it.”

He didn’t mean it, and of course Takao knew it. The grimace on his face faded, usual playful grin resurfacing as he laced his hands lazily behind his head.

“Aw, if I left Shin-chan would be lonely, right? I can just see your sad face crying in the corner and—.”

“Shut up, Takao,” the harsh command ended Takao’s inane babbling, but the smile never left his face, and soon he was humming lightly.

He was probably waiting to be chastised for that, too, but Midorima rather enjoyed Takao’s voice. Though he would rather lose all his lucky items than let Takao know.

In hindsight, he should have realized something was afoot. Takao was too excited, too giddy, an impatient eagerness in every step he took, the fervor steadily increasing the closer they got to his house. They barely made it through the door of his bedroom before he attacked, jerking Midorima’s head down, kissing him hard and deep, hands moving lower, tugging his jacket down his shoulders almost roughly, going to the buttons of his shirt, tearing at them until the shirt was open and sliding off his arms.

“W-wait,” Midorima panted, lifting his head. It was too much, too fast.

“I can’t wait, Shin-chan,” Takao breathed, voice low and husky, and he circled his arms around Midorima’s neck, pulling him back for another long, passionate kiss, relentlessly licking and nibbling his lips until they parted, allowing Takao entry.

Kissing was one of Midorima’s favorite things, and Takao was a genius at it. His tongue slid and teased and rubbed, sweeping over Midorima’s, sometimes gently flicking, other times stabbing fast and deep. He didn’t just use his mouth either, his whole body got into the kiss, pushing and grinding against Midorima, hands spearing into his hair, moving his head for the best angle. In his more lucid moments, Midorima wondered where Takao learned to kiss like that, and then he would push the thought away, not liking the dark, painful emotions it summoned.

Takao slipped a leg between Midorima’s, rubbing against his burgeoning erection, taking a step, and then another, walking him backward until the bend of his legs hit the bed behind them.  And then he was falling, landing with a soft thud on the mattress, and Takao wasted no time pulling off Midorima’s pants and boxers, shimmying out of his own clothes, dropping down, covering Midorima’s taller form so that their naked flesh pressed together.

“Shin-chan, Shin-chan,” Takao chanted, kissing his eyes and cheeks and nose.

Midorima shuddered. His arms came up, wound around Takao’s back, hauling him closer. Takao answered by rolling his hips, grinding his arousal into Midorima’s stomach, legs brushing over Midorima’s own stiff, throbbing desire, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from his mouth.

While Midorima bit his lip, holding back the urge to undulate wantonly beneath his lover, Takao grabbed his arms, drew them over his head, tied a soft, silken cloth around his wrists.

“Takao, what—,” he started to object, started to pull his hands apart, but Takao shushed him by placing a finger over his lips.

“It’s alright, Shin-chan. I promise,” his eyes were glowing, smoldering with love and lust and anticipation. “Please let me do this,” he continued, removing Midorima’s glasses, wrapping another cloth around his eyes, blindfolding him, plunging him into darkness.

The loss of sight, coupled with his bound hands, made him feel vulnerable, exposed, and uneasy.

“I don’t like this,” he kept his voice steady, not wanting his weakness to be revealed.

Something warm, firm but gentle cupped his cheek. Takao’s hand. Even blind, he recognized it.

“I won’t do anything you don’t like, I swear,” lips pressed softly to his, soothing him. They moved slightly back and Takao spoke again, his warm, sweet breath ghosting over Midorima’s mouth. “I just want to make you feel good, Shin-chan, and I know you will feel it more deeply like this.”

Takao’s lips moved to his jaw, to his ear, nibbled and licked. “Please, Shin-chan, please.”

The hot, pleading whisper made him tremble. Takao was right; with his sight removed, he felt every kiss, every warm, moist lick with a greater intensity than he ever had before. It all came down to trust. Did he trust Takao enough to allow him bind and blind him, to care for and love his body, to bring pleasure not pain? The answer was obvious. If he didn’t trust Takao, there was no way they could be as in sync as they were on the basketball court, no way he could know without a doubt that the pass from Takao would find his hands, no matter where he stood.

Even though it went against his own nature, a nature that felt it should always be in control and in charge, Midorima found himself nodding, giving in, _accepting_.

Licking his lips, he drew in a deep breath and said, “Alright, but if I don’t like it and tell you to stop, you will stop. Understand?”

He felt Takao’s relief, his elation, and didn’t need to see to know his partner was smiling happily.

“Thank you Shin-chan, thank you,” the reverent, joyful response accompanied more kisses raining over his face, his throat, his shoulders.

Tension eased out of his muscles as his body relaxed, softened, gave itself up to Takao’s tender touch.

The bed shifted as Takao moved. He felt the air stir, and a damp, warm tongue trailed down the underside of his arm. Midorima quivered again. The tongue continued its journey, stopping to trace the shell of his ear, moving lower to lick a blazing path down his neck, over his collarbone, to his chest. For one breathless moment, Takao hovered there, not touching, not kissing, not licking him. Of its own volition, his back arched, pushing his chest upward, and Takao gave a shaky laugh.

“I’m so happy you are responding, Shin-chan,” he rasped, and his mouth closed over Midorima’s nipple.

He couldn’t quite hold back the moan that welled deep in his throat. Takao responded with his own moan, the sound vibrating along Midorima’s skin, adding to his pleasure. With careful precision, Takao rolled Midorima’s nipple between his teeth, tugging and drawing on the tiny point, creating a delicious heat that spread from his chest down to his groin.

Midorima wanted to grab Takao’s head, hold it in place, but with his hands bound he couldn’t, could only curl his fingers into his palms.

It could have been minutes or it could have been hours, the time Takao spent laving and sucking and tormenting his nipple. Not letting up until it felt raw and swollen, until Midorima was almost thrashing beneath him.  Finally, he moved, sweeping his hands over Midorima’s abdomen, following with his mouth, biting and licking. Takao spread Midorima’s legs, dipped lower, hanging over that part that was hard and weeping and demanding attention. Attention that was denied. Takao instead drifting over to his thigh, placing hot, wet kisses on the inside of his leg. Lower still, tonguing his knee, his calf, the top of his foot. Switching to the other side, reversing his movement upward, back up toward the center of Midorima’s body, once more perching over his groin, once more ignoring it, heading for his navel instead, lapping and circling the small indention.

_Crazy_. He was going crazy. His body was burning, melting, craving release, heightened by the absolute blackness in front of his eyes. Midorima was close to begging, but he didn’t beg, would never beg. It was anathema to him. But he had to make Takao move, touch him where he so desperately needed to be touched.

“Dammit, Takao, get on with it already. Touch my cock,” it was a growling demand, and he felt his face grow hot as he used the vulgar word, but that didn’t stop him from lifting his hips, pushing his neglected shaft toward Takao.

He felt Takao shudder against him, the visceral command affecting the other man, too.

“Alright, Shin-chan, I’ll give you what you want,” the words were ragged, rough, Takao’s breath coming hard and fast now.

Midorima didn’t have time to brace himself before that wicked, scorching, wet mouth covered his erection. The groan was ripped from him, head falling back, heart pounding. Takao started slowly, twining his tongue around the tip, lathing the sensitive underside with deliberate, delicate strokes, humming and sucking as he found a stead rhythm. Midorima’s hands clenched again, wanting so badly to touch Takao, frustrated that he couldn’t.

Soon, sparks of intense bliss were zinging across his body. Midorima knew if Takao didn’t stop, he would climax right there, right in the other’s mouth.

“ _Takao_ ,” his name was a warning, exhaled through teeth gritted against the pleasure cresting inside him.

His lover knew him well enough, knew what that sound in his voice meant.

“Not yet, Shin-chan, not yet,” Takao panted, pulling his mouth away, the air cool over Midorima’s heated, wet flesh, making him shiver.

Spreading his legs wider, Takao lowered his head, found the pucker of Midorima’s entrance, darted his tongue forward, licking around the opening.  Shame colored Midorima’s skin, but it was a dark shame, an erotic shame. He hardly ever let Takao lick and kiss him there, the action embarrassing to the extreme, and oh so intimate. However, with his eyes covered and arms immobilized, there was nothing he could do but lay there as Takao pushed his tongue deep, wetting and preparing Midorima’s body for the act to come.

Only when he was a writhing, moaning mess, when he could feel pre-cum dripping copiously down his penis, did Takao stop, pushing his legs to his chest, bending his body in half. Then, Takao lined his own erection up to Midorima’s hole, pushing in and sinking deep.

“Love you, Shin-chan, love you so much,” Takao groaned ardently, reverently.

Midorima, however, couldn’t string even two words together, as his body first fought and then welcomed the thick, hot mass tunneling inside him. As always, there was a brief pinch of pain, followed by indescribable relief and ecstasy. Again, not being able to see made it so much hotter, so much deeper, just as Takao had predicted.

Takao set a hard, fast pace, gliding in and out, scraping over Midorima’s sensitive tissues, over that hidden spot that sent heat pooling low and deep inside his belly. Midorima met his thrusts, hips rising and falling.

All the while Takao spoke to him, whispered to him, loved him with his words.

“So beautiful, Shin-chan.” _thrust_ “So hot.” _thrust_ “So perfect.” _thrust_ “No one else like you.” _thrust_ _thrust_ “I adore you, love you, want you so much. Shin-chan, Shin-chan.”

God, how those words pierced him, moved him, seared him to the core. Orgasm beckoned and he couldn’t stop it now, didn’t want to stop it.

“Takao, I’m going to come,” he actually cried out, pride having no place here between them, not in this almost holy act.

“Wait, wait, I want to see your beautiful green eyes when you come, Shin-chan,” Takao whimpered back, ripping the blindfold away.

Midorima blinked, eyes adjusting to the sudden light again, and he looked up, saw Takao staring back at him, face full of desire and affection and love. Love for _him_ , and just like that, Midorima lost it, climaxing hard, jerking and shuddering as he came.  Takao’s hips sped up, smacking into Midorima, almost pummeling him with their swift, hard strokes until he stiffened with a groan, flooding Midorima with his essence.

With just a little effort, Midorima was able to free his wrists, the cloth unraveling easily under the slight pressure. He circled his arms around Takao’s back, sweeping his hands over those trim, smooth shoulders, serenity and happiness settling over him.

Even languid and content , he still said gruffly, “No more blindfolds, Takao.”

Smiling impishly down at him, eyes warm and soft and satisfied, Takao murmured back, “Even if it’s my turn to be blindfolded next time?”

The image jolted Midorima and he thought that might not such a bad idea. No, it wasn’t a bad idea at all.

So he smirked, harrumphing superciliously, “Hmph. You better be prepared then.”

“I can’t wait, Shin-chan,” Takao sighed as he laid his head on Midorima’s chest.

“Naturally,” Midorima replied smugly, but he couldn’t wait either, and the anticipation stayed with him as he drifted off into a happy, blissful slumber

_Fin_.


End file.
